2. Preparation
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Outside her room, the hallway was dark; she waved her hand over a red crystal mounted on the wall, and the torches along the walls lit themselves. The floor looked like ankle-deep water; the walls extended the illusion of shallow water surrounded by tropical islands. 
She walked down the stairs, which looked like a river flowing over a steep rocky slope. Arun was still asleep in his chair behind the front desk of the lodge.
Raain crept up next to him and knelt down resting her hand on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, "Arun." He stirred and blinked his eyes, "its day light in the swamps, time to get up."
"Huh? oh right, ok." Arun rubbed his eyes with his small hands and sat up from the back of his chair, stretching. 
"It wasn't a dream, Arun, Griegg's alive," she reminded him as he still had a look of sadness in his eyes.
Arun lit up, remembering the middle of the night events of hours prior. "RIGHT!!!" He leapt from the chair and stumbled in the blankets that were still wrapped around him. "I guess I got a little too excited."
Raain laughed, "Its not unexpected from you," she helped him get untangled from the blankets and to his feet, which wasn't very far--Arun being less than half as tall as Raain. Raain stood and the two walked from behind the counter towards the dinning hall and kitchen, both smiling. 
Raain pushed open the door behind the bar which led to the kitchen; Arun right behind her. She paused in the middle of the doorway and turned to Arun. "Forgetting something?" She smiled an amused annoyance.
"LIGHTS!" Arun turned and ran across the dinning room to the front door and reaching above his head, he waved his hand over the red crystal on the wall, and the room became brightly illuminated with fire.
Twelve torches on the walls generated most of the light in the room, three on each of the four walls, and three chandeliers  in the middle of the room hanging from the rafters filled in the shadows from above. Under each chandelier, a round table; along the walls, half round tables with four chairs at each. The fireplace at the far end had only ashes remaining, but the morning was warm enough that an extra fire was not needed. Between the torches on the walls, paintings of ocean scenes, small and large, and with the good news of the night before, this was sure to be a good day for all.
"Much better," Raain shouted across the room as she entered the kitchen. The smell of fruits, nuts and meat almost overwhelmed her. Vines of Opplles were laid across one of the counters--thick red vines with pink leaves and orange dimple-skinned fruit; the fruit was finally soft enough to mulch for the mid-day's drink. Talur came in the back door with a bag of Tula nuts that had been drying in the drying room (any tula nut that is left off the vine for more than a few days and then becomes wet without being properly processed can be a fire hazard).
"Mornin' Raain!" Talur said as he hefted the bag of nuts onto another counter. "What d'ya think? Griegg's alive so we have a special breakfast?"
"Sounds like we all have the same idea," Raain said as she handed Talur the nut cracker which was hanging on a hook too high for Talur to reach. "Nira should be back in in a few minutes, she's picking up a special loaf from what's his face on the other side of town." Nira, Talur's wife, normally made bread in the morning, but for this special day, she had gone across town to one of the other bakers for his special fruit bread, one of the few who can make it right--probably less than twenty on the whole continent.
With his arms stretched high, Talur could almost reach the top of Raain's head, average height for an Avgar--or a Deurgar, for that matter. The wings of Talur's grey mustache stretched almost to his knees (a beard would have been a hindrance to his cooking, and so he shaved it off several years ago and never brought it back; he could tie his mustache behind his back while cooking). He had a dark spot on the palm of his left hand, Raain noticed this.
"Smoking this morning?"
"What? how'd yeh know?" Talur tried to hide his hand without making it obvious he was trying to hide it; didn't work.
"The ash on your hand, you think I wouldn't notice? You don't clean up after yourself very well. Go wash up."
With a grunt, Talur turned and went to the sink to wash the ash from his hand. Though there are many herbs and flowers which can be smoked, all creating various affects, Talur's morning favorite was the majna flower which clears the mind of congestion, opening it to think consistently and freely; though not always if more than just a small amount is smoked.
 
The front door to the inn opened as a short, plump woman entered, carrying a large basket of bread. The bread maker from across town had prepared extra loafs for the occasion, even before being asked by Nira. Nira's basket of bread was almost as big as she was. She hadn't even crossed the lobby, before hoots of appreciation were heard as the smell of the fresh fruit bread filled the lower levels of the Lodge. There were a few early risers sitting at tables in the dinning room, and a few other towns folk helping Arun prepare for the larger than usual breakfast.
Nira carried the bread behind the bar, setting the basket on the floor, and beginning to transfer loafs to smaller baskets to be placed on tables. "Arun, could you set these out?" Nira called across the room.
Arun was sweeping the fireplace's stone table to be ready for use; he looked at his dirty hands and frowned. It was no good for him to try to carry the bread by hand, he had to move the bread another way. Focusing his attention on the bread baskets, he took a deep breath, cleared his mind, and concentrated. Those who were in the dinning room stopped to watch Arun closely. He could feel their eyes on him, a bit of a distraction, he let it go and refocused, nearly lifting his arm and hand towards the baskets. One of the baskets began to tremble and then flew far too quickly off the bar and crashed into the ceiling. Many of the early risers laughed; another told him to try again, while the man picked up the broken plate and now dirty bread. Arun tried to set aside his frustration and the embarrasment, and refocused his mind, relaxed a bit, and managed to slowly lift the next plate of bread; those watching couldn't help but show a bit of a smile as they watched Arun move the bread basket from the bar to a table, with his mind. When the basket landed gently on a table, Nira gave him a bit of applause, and told him to do it again; a few of the watchers saluted Arun by raising a hand with three fingers pointing towards him.
Arun began moving the third basket, and then the fourth, and then everyone went back to their quiet discussions or helping set dishes on tables as Arun continued mentally moving bread baskets across the room, feeling quite proud that he had only smashed one. Once he had set out all the baskets, he went back to cleaning the fireside table.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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